"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Ad Usum Puerorum et Puellarum

Byron, Don Juan, Canto I, Stanzas XLII-XLV:

XLII. Ovid's a rake, as half his verses show him, Anacreon's morals are a still worse sample, Catullus scarcely has a decent poem, I don't think Sappho's Ode a good example, Although Longinus tells us there is no hymnWhere the sublime soars forth on wings more ample; But Virgil's songs are pure, except that horrid one Beginning with "Formosum Pastor Corydon."

XLIII. Lucretius' irreligion is too strongFor early stomachs, to prove wholesome food; I can't help thinking Juvenal was wrong,Although no doubt his real intent was good, For speaking out so plainly in his song,So much indeed as to be downright rude; And then what proper person can be partial To all those nauseous epigrams of Martial?

XLIV. Juan was taught from out the best edition, Expurgated by learned men, who place, Judiciously, from out the schoolboy's vision, The grosser parts; but, fearful to deface Too much their modest bard by this omission,And pitying sore this mutilated case, They only add them all in an appendix,Which saves, in fact, the trouble of an index;

XLV.For there we have them all "at one fell swoop," Instead of being scatter'd through the pages;They stand forth marshall'd in a handsome troop, To meet the ingenuous youth of future ages,Till some less rigid editor shall stoopTo call them back into their separate cages,Instead of standing staring altogether,Like garden godsand not so decent either.